Nocturne
by Sky Samuelle
Summary: Sort of a prequel to ‘Love me Tender, Love me Right’. James and Juliet share a late night conversation by the porch …about Goodwin, among other things. Odd feelings stir under the surface.


**Title:** Nocturne

**AUTHOR:** Sky Samuelle

**Rating:** G

**Summary: **Sort of a prequel to 'Love me Tender, Love me Right'.James and Julietshare alate night conversation by the porch …about Goodwin, among other things. Odd feelings stir under the surface.

---

James doesn't completely understand why Daniel "Whiz kid" Faraday fucking irritates him so much, but sharing breathing space with him is becoming increasingly difficult. The idiot just wouldn't watch himself, always placing himself wherever he could inopportunely 'watch over' baby Charlotte like a hawk. If he kept up this stalking, he would either get himself pegged as a pedophile or blow their cover – a disaster waiting to happen, that's what Faraday is, regardless of the attenuating circumstances.

If only Juliet saw it, instead of looking at him, _James Ford_ – the one sane person on this island beside her- with that mute disapproval in her narrowing gaze….if only Juliet saw it, he would not be here, on the porch, squeezing a lidded beer can between his hands and seething with irritation.

He asked her to stay two weeks and she did, but that didn't give her any right to…to… stare him down in that collected, disappointed way of hers.

When did her opinion become of any consequence to him, anyway?

He doesn't even need to turn around to know she is there, behind his turned back, leaning on the threshold and waiting to be acknowledged.

He _won't_ acknowledge her, of course: she has been waiting for at least fifteen good minutes, but he has no intention of ceasing to ignore her presence until _she_ shares her thoughts first.

If she wants to _talk_ so badly…

"If you stopped playing mother-hen to him, maybe, just maybe he would realize he is becoming a liability."

…He will spare her the trouble because, apparently, his mouth has developed an annoying propensity to disconnect from his brain whenever she is in hearing range. Wonderful.

Juliet lets out a faint sigh (he doesn't turn to face her, but he can just picture her rolling her eyes at him) and finally moves, coming to sit beside him.

"He loved her and he held her in his arms as she died. Do you seriously believe whatever we can say, do or even think will ever compare to that? "

For all the placid softness of her tone, it feels like she is mocking him, and try as he might, he can't stomp down the angry bitterness churning inside. The disquieting feeling is not directed to her but to Daniel. Sometimes you just need to cut your losses and let_ go_. Daniel's inability to do so rubs him the wrong way in every way possible.

"If it doesn't, it should." He grumbles, half-resentfully.

He _did_ let go of Kate, did he not?

It was painful as hell, but it had to be done. It had to be done and he doesn't regret it – it's one among few precious choices he has to be proud of in a whole life based on self-preservation – but jumping off that helicopter all he felt was fucking _relief_. Jumping was both the hardest and easiest thing he had ever done.

It was easier than loving Kate and knowing he was her ultimate escape route from Jack, easier than wondering if she would ever stop looking for something better, easier than dealing with all that he could not give her.

It hurt, but it was easy.

It tore him apart, but it also gave him back a shard of self-respect.

So why does looking at Faraday's helpless devastation anger him so much? Why does it feel like an insult to his feelings for Kate, a glaring mark of accusation over that fleeting instant of unexplainable _relief_?

Juliet is silent beside him and when he turns toward her, she is staring ahead, her features not quite serene. For some unidentified reason, his primary instinct is to reach out and touch her, to bring her focus back to him. Believe it or not, everything seems clearer when he can count on all of her attention.

Maybe she senses his gaze on her, because she glances briefly his way and her lips press into a thin line, like she couldn't make her mind about whether or not to voice her thoughts.

He would call her on it, but he is mildly curious to see what she will decide on her own.

"He feels responsible for her, if only for the fact he was there and he couldn't save her, and it's not rational but it won't change anything. Grief and guilt aren't a healthy combination, James. It breaks something inside a person and there's nothing we can do except give him the time to learn to live with it. We can afford that much."

It was fascinating, how her expression remained bland while she spoke, even while her voice assumed an unusual, nearly mournful pitch and something behind her eyes grew grave.

James takes it all in avidly, his intuition picking up on the mood underlying the words. This must be personal somehow, and if Juliet were a con he would be already flexing his imaginary knuckles and choosing the right words to push her to open up.

But Juliet is a friend, he has gathered that much when he has tried to picture his life struck in Dharma without her and found the mere prospect insufferable.

You are supposed to respect your friends' privacy unless they're hitching for a good chat, right? Even if you are the one hitching with a need to know everything?

So he shrugs, a skeptical hint of a smirk on his lips and says "What if he doesn't learn to behave?"

"He'll do it."

"Sure about that, Blondie?"

For a fraction of second, her gaze lowers, and it's forcefully brought up to face his once more as soon as she realizes what she's doing. James can't help but admire self-discipline like that, wondering if it's just a natural Juliet-peculiarity or part of an Others 101 Crash-Course.

Someday, perhaps, he'll ask.

As soon as he's figured out what exactly it is about this blonde that sort-of- intimidates him out of his habitual brownnosing.

"Daniel just needs time." Juliet nods at herself, then she gives him this cursory glance that says quite clearly she is reading the curiosity spelled out on his features (you see, this is what he doesn't understand: how the fuck has he became this damn _transparent_ to her? Times like this, it almost looks like she is scanning his goddamn head, and he can't figure out if it feels more like a relief or a bother or something else entirely), and continues, answering his unspoken question.

"He reminds me a little of the person I used to be when I was younger, you know."

James scoffs openly at her, amused and just a bit intrigued "You make it sound like you are some old spinster"- he pauses, filling the silence with a leering look that speaks a language of its own- "but you look still in your prime to me "

Juliet chuckles, relaxing enough to give his shoulder a playful shove.

"It's all this island-related drama! I swear there are days I feel as _ancient _as the ocean… and then I get thinking about how I miss that girl, even if she was more brains and dreams than spine and social grace."

"You as a spineless dreamer, huh? Not something I can see, sorry."

"Should I take it as a compliment, James?"

"Maybe. You are the only woman who ever tasered me at our first meeting, after all. If that doesn't win you any consideration, I don't know what does."

Juliet's answering laughter seems to charge the air separating them, making it oddly lighter. " Tell me more about it"

He nearly regrets saying anything at all as soon he does. It was pure impulse. The woman beside him is so damn tight-lipped when it comes to herself and he has fought hard not to admit it makes him uncomfortable.

"About what?"

She asks with a hint of coyness in her tone, but her smile has dimmed a little and he knows she has understood him perfectly. James chooses to not consider why the unease spikes into something similar to pain at the thought she is lying so serenely to his face.

"You, mystery girl. You read all about me in that file of yours, and I know nothing of you except your… affiliation with Ben's crew."

If she can cheat her way out of this conversation, then he has no problem guilt-tripping her back onto the original track. Just out of principle, not because he's actively interested.

"There's not much to say. I led a perfectly ordinary existence until Ben decided to interfere."

"Excuses, excuses, Doc. "

A bit of his annoyance slips in to color the barb more sarcastically than he means. He dislikes how the words sound out of his lips. It's almost like he cares about whatever trivial info she might or might not share with him enough to be resentful of her silence.

"Do you want to know how my ex-husband died?"

Her eyebrows rise in a playful arch and she blurts it out with no irritation whatsoever, like it was just a random fact without particular importance.

"You were married?!"

James is not sure why that's so shocking, but it's undeniable that his mouth is hanging open in disbelieving outrage.

Juliet shrugs, amused rather than offended at his reaction."It didn't become to me."

Understatement of the century, but it will take more than his pout, endearing as it is, to push her to discuss the humiliation Edmund put her through.

"Huh." He nods, his gaze trained on her visage, and to Juliet, his exclusive interest feels like the nicest kind of flattery.

" I was my ex's underling at a Miami research facility when Richard stepped in to recruit me. You wouldn't believe how _flattered_ I was by his offer. He made it sound like my dream job. I was going to have funds and _my own team_, in a Portland facility, not on some unknown and dangerous island. I wanted to accept so badly, but I knew Edmund would never let me go. So I told Richard that short of his getting hit by a bus, I would not be able to leave the University. Morbidly enough, it was just the next day that my ex-husband and I were arguing, he stepped out into the street and was hit by a bus."

She searches his baffled expression for a sign of something she didn't even know. Indeed, she doesn't understand the reaction she wants or expects from him, yet she feels it matters, it matters very much.

"Wow," - he exhaled, starting to see why her favorite book is Carrie- "do you think they-?."

"I try not to wonder."

James shakes his head at her: it is not a clear answer, but then the case doesn't require one.

"Well, whatever happened, it wasn't your responsibility. You shouldn't have to feel guilty. "

Banal, he's aware, and he's ashamed this is the best he is capable of. It's not like he has much experience comforting people, but on this occasion, he wishes he could do better, be eloquent, so she wouldn't regret opening up to him.

Juliet smiles at his awkwardness, then readjusts what James fondly calls 'her poker face' and shrugs. "I know. Once I got over the shock it was surprisingly easy to accept and move on. My ex was not a prize…I mean, he was nearly as patronizing as Ben."

"Lucky you." James replies mock-snidely, scrunching up his nose in an odd way. There's something in this scenario she's describing that disturbs him, but he can't pinpoint what or why.

"Indeed. " She echoes him as he finally opens his beer can, takes a generous sip and hands it to her:

"To confessions."

She takes the beer from him, rolling her eyes upward just for the fun of it. It surprises her that this conversation turned out so refreshing. After so long a time spent cutting off so many parts of herself, it shouldn't be so natural to expose the skeletons in her closet. But it is okay, reliving her memories with James. He has made it easy, the way he made it easy to stay in a place she has been desperate to leave for six years. She pretends she doesn't know what they are doing.

"You are enjoying this little investigation of yours a bit too much." She laments gently, sipping her beer and taking notice of his silly, self-satisfied grin.

"Hardly an investigation"- James scoffs- "you are just naturally secretive."

"Professional Deformation from Other-land "

She defends, and when he chuckles at that, she has to look away from his widening grin to avoid realizing it's becoming less silly and more attractive.

A companionable silence stretches between them for a while, but it's evident to both it's not going to last. She is very aware –maybe a bit more than she should have to be, or would like to be- of those swift glances he addresses to her visage and he is half-sure she notices but can't bring himself to truly care.

"Did you ever…like it? Being an Other, I mean, before you knew you couldn't ever leave? "

Juliet almost ignores the question, then hands him back their shared beer can and crosses her arms around herself "Before I knew"- she admits reluctantly-"and there were bits after, too. In between my dying patients. In between missing my …home. " She nearly said Rachel's name at the end, only to feel like she couldn't stand uttering the name out loud. He would ask and then she should have to remember, acknowledge that her family is possibly gone forever.

She can barely admit that there were moments when she considered that, if not for Ben, she could have fit in here, between those individuals so organized and capable. It shames her every day that she has chosen her professional pride over standing by Rachel during her pregnancy. It humiliates her that she used to be so weak to need that job to validate her so badly. And by some masochistic urge, those are the feelings that push her to say more.

"I liked being useful, being in charge. I had a few friends and even a clandestine affair. "

"Yeah?"

He is not going to judge her, Juliet is startled to understand as she turns to him again, sees his expression is more intrigued than anything else. So far it's always been _her_ listening to _him. _Because she assumed he needed it and she would prefer he didn't blow off his steam the wrong way. She never considered that the role reversal could be beneficial, too.

Yet, having James to listen, all that she wanted was to keep talking. Even if it was difficult and she couldn't bear to get into details because the idea alone of getting to those made her feel so raw and battered, this grade of exposure felt right, even cathartic.

With all the lies she has told, all the truths she was or still is silent about for so long, she sometimes feels like she is not really there. But now, with James looking at her so intently, she feels _real _and she only wants him to keep _seeing her._

"When I was trapped here, he was my freedom. He made me feel…tougher, more"-_more like a woman_, she thinks but this isn't something she can admit to her current company- "just more than I was, I guess."

Even with Ben hovering in the background, Goodwin gave her back that pride and that femininity Edmund had taken from her. He was a kind of anti-redemption to her, one that eased her back into her skin. For that, she would always remember him fondly. Even if she had suspected he wasn't the faithful type and this was the reason she hadn't actively encouraged him to leave Harper, it had sufficed to know that Goodwin genuinely loved her. Being the woman he cheated with was better than being the woman he cheated on, and there had been no remorse over that choice: it helped her preserve her affection for him.

As she talks, James studies every inch of her, tries to drink in and memorize every revelation.

He notices her eyes gleam like dark crystals in the dim light, and that eerie calm her expression always retains gives to her visage a nearly regal air. She is beautiful in the way of that uncommon beauty that transcends age and convention because it has that certain hint of something deeper, unique, indefinable and mysterious. For a moment, he can imagine how a man –married or not- can't resist setting a claim on a beauty like that. For a moment, he can picture Juliet's soothing coolness melting away in someone's embrace, her body bare and her gaze unguarded.

The image has an odd effect on James, one he can't define right away: he only knows it unsettles him to the core, nauseating him as much it morbidly fascinates him.

He can feel the blush creeping up his neck: he's not supposed to think of her like that, and he definitely isn't supposed to paint dirty shots of how her visage looks in an orgasmic glow.

He feels tremendously guilty over that and he doesn't understand why. He never had a problem with mentally undressing women…if you consider his past profession, you can understand why it came spontaneous to him.

But Juliet is…hot stuff, okay, and while it doesn't ever make him especially self-conscious to pay attention to that, the direction his thoughts have suddenly taken introduces him to a new level of embarrassment. It feels intimate, seeing Juliet like this, even if only in his mind's eye.

This doesn't need to mean he is _attracted _to her. Hell, Juliet is like… the anti-Kate! Because when he first looked at Freckles, it was the pull of a vague familiarity drawing him in. He responded to the call of the darkness lurking behind those green eyes, the broken spirit hiding behind that guarded expressions of hers, even to her restlessness.

When he first looked at Juliet, he only noticed her ice queen façade, her resilience, her ability to manipulate: indeed, Juliet had instinctively repulsed him as strongly Kate had drawn him in.

Meeting Juliet's cool blue eyes he had sensed the threat of the quiet, focused will animating her beneath her unshakable composure, of that mysterious mind he couldn't read or sway, of that aura of calm, controlled power she seemed to emanate. Juliet was as unfamiliar as Kate was familiar, and under some aspects, the situation hasn't changed.

It doesn't make any sense, to want Juliet that way. None at all. Yet, he can't deny that the very same traits of her character that used to awaken an inborn distrust in him are now those that he is ready to rely on to back him up during a crisis.

Or that she looks lovely tonight, with that new, self-conscious vulnerability freely offered and splayed on her features, as much she did that night on the docks while she promised him to stay.

He leans in to let his shoulder brush against hers and allows his lips to confess "You are quite something on your own, Jules."

It's nothing more than the truth –simple and complicated as it is- so why does that useless statement cause them both to shudder inside?


End file.
